Grandma and the Reindeer Have Issues, Apparently.

I have, apparently, traumatized my children. It started off simply. I wanted to go to Santa's Wonderland.

The mecca of Christmas lights. Amazing. Awe inspiring. Like Jesus rising from the dead awesome.

So we set out at 5pm, an hour before the display even opened. Trying to beat the crowd.

Instead, we sat in a line for hours. Thirty minutes of which we were stuck next to a dead deer. I suppose I could have distracted the children. Pointed out the trees. Asked them to count the number of cars in line. Instead, I started to sing "Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer." Jill is smarter than I give her credit for. She made the leap quickly from Grandma getting run over by a reindeer to Grandma retaliating.

The next 27 minutes were spent examining the dead deer through the window, trying to determine exactly which reindeer had been lost, while Emmi who may have found it all funny made dead reindeer sounds and faces. For the record, it was not Rodolph. No red nose.

Finally we moved beyond the deer. By 10:30, after two port-a-potty trips and three chicken finger baskets from Layne's, we finally made it to the entrance. The holy grail. Angels singing. Hallelujah. The lights!

"Girls aren't the lights so pretty?!" I exclaimed.

Silence.

Six total hours in the car to go to a light display thirty minutes from our house and both kids fell asleep.

But at least they got to see a reindeer.